Draco's Leather Pants
by griffin black
Summary: Complete adolescent trash, but so scrummy. Draco has a secret, watch what happens when he's found out.


Author's note: This ficlet is supposed to be completely ridiculous. I tried to stylize the characters (especially Malfoy) as much as possible. The whole leather pants thing was inspired by way of typing in wrong. It took me to another site and I started poking around, ended up on another site, and there found definitions for fan fiction terminology etc. Under the definition of the word fanon there was an example of it. Which was how it's generally been accepted into fanon that Draco Malfoy has a penchant for wearing leather pants. I thought this was hilarious. So I'm writing this fic. (Also, since the British (so I'm told) think of pants as being men's underwear and trousers as being what Americans call pants I thought I'd actually make Malfoy's underwear leather. Thus, the title.)

Draco's Leather Pants 

"Mmm, yesss."

Draco Malfoy loved the feel of smooth leather against his skin. He loved the way the little hot pants hugged his hipbones and constricted his cock. Almost everyday after classes, Draco would dash down to his Slytherin dormitory, instruct Crabbe and Goyle to bugger off, and barricade himself in the toilet. The other boys from his dormitory knew not to disturb Draco; despite not knowing what the self-loving, slimy git of a Slytherin Prince was doing. Subsequently it was commonly believed among the Slytherins that Draco had irritable bowels. Or else he was extremely regular and liked to take his time about it.

In the loo, Draco would prance around in the leather pants. He amused himself further by applying cherry lip gloss and coiffing his platinum locks into ridiculous pompadours. On this particular day, Draco did not have time to carry out his ritual. Instead he opted for a cursory swipe of gloss to his pouting lips and donned the pants. Still wanting to enjoy himself, despite lack of time, Draco pealed his growing erection out of the tight leather and commenced his evening with a hand job. After shooting into the sink, Draco fumbled in his discarded robes for his watch.

"Merlin I'm late!" Draco was due in detention with Professor McGonagall in twenty minutes. There was just time enough to get down to the Great Hall and inhale some dinner. Hurriedly, without bothering to remove the pants, Malfoy pulled on his trousers.

In the Great Hall, Draco shoveled a few forkfuls of he knew not what, he was so rushed, into his mouth before starting on a roll. A few tables away, Harry Potter stood up. Draco groaned and checked his watch. Blaise Zabini nudged Draco in the ribs.

"You'll be late, Potters already leaving. Why didn't you get down here earlier?"

Draco shot him a warning look and stood to leave. He was thoroughly put out. If only he hadn't shouted at Potter, he could be gelling his hair instead. But no, a few days ago he'd gotten into a shouting match in transfiguration. After wittily, if he didn't say so himself, insulting Harry's shoddy wand work (the tortoise looking nothing like a teacup), Harry had made a rather nasty remark about his mother. Enraged, a fight had ensued, landing both boys in detention. Eager to bully the source of his discomfort, Draco hurried to catch up with Harry who was just exiting the Great Hall.

"This is all your fault Potter," Draco spat, sneering at the Gryffindor.

Harry, not at all happy to see Draco early, did not respond. Undeterred, Draco went on.

"If you'd actually learn to transfigure something, I wouldn't have had to say anything. As it was, I think someone needed to deflate your big head. Seeing as you're completely useless with a wand, I mean---"

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry stared directly ahead, definitely not in the mood to be harangued.

"Honestly Potter, mine was a teacup, but yours was---"

Provoked into speech, Harry scoffed, "Yours was pink with ickle _dainty_ roses on it. It was the gayest teacup I've ever seen."

Having reached the classroom, Draco stopped at the door and turned abruptly to face his rival.

"You filthy mudblood loving… What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Draco puffed out his chest and furrowed his brow.

Harry smirked in a very un-Potter like manner and opened his mouth to respond. He quickly closed it again, squinted, and took a closer look at Draco.

"Malfoy, are you wearing _lip gloss_?" A triumphant grin began to pull at the corners of his own lips.

"I--- what?" Horrified, Draco raised a hand to the sheer gloss, realizing he'd forgotten to wipe it off.

Just then the boys heard footsteps clicking firmly in their direction.

"Not another row I hope. In," Professor McGonagall scrutinized the pair as she ushered them into her classroom. Draco and Harry took separate desks.

"I forgot I had an appointment with the headmaster when I assigned your detention. So you will be doing lines unsupervised this evening. If I detect you have been doing anything other than working silently you both will resume detention tomorrow night. Have I made myself clear?"

There was a sullen murmur of assent. Without another word, Professor McGonagall waved her wand at the blackboard where the sentence they were to copy appeared: I must not shout in class.

"Professor, how many times?" Harry asked.

"I'll determine if you've done enough when I return. I expect you to work diligently, if you do I'm sure you'll have a satisfactory number."

"Yes ma'am."

Professor McGonagall swept from the room. Harry bent to retrieve a quill and some parchment when he heard, "Oh damn."

There was a pause while Draco cleared his throat and then, "Ah, listen Potter---I've left my bag in the toi—I mean dorm. You don't have any extra?" He indicated Harry's supplies.

Harry looked around incredulously and gave a short laugh. "You prat. Fine, here," Harry threw a roll of parchment and a quill at him.

"And ink," Grumbling Harry responded by moving to sit at Draco's desk. They'd have to share his one bottle.

"What, were you too busy applying makeup to remember our detention? I saw you barely had time to eat. Betcha were doing just that."

Draco was momentarily flummoxed, a pink tinge creeping up his cheeks, Harry was so close to the truth even he didn't realize it.

"Shut up or I'll hex you. I wasn't doing anything of the sort."

Harry laughed and began to copy his lines, Draco followed suit.

"Right, queer. Hex away, get detention for a month you will."

In a dangerously controlled voice, Draco clearly enunciated the words, "I am not a queer." Draco was trying not to panic. Perhaps he'd have to forgo his afternoon rituals if Potter began bandying his suspicions about. The Slytherins might start to wonder what he was doing in the toilet in earnest.

Harry looked up from his parchment and with raised eyebrows asked, "You are, aren't you?"

Exasperated and desperately wishing he was back in his loo Draco growled, "Shut up," and began furiously scribbling his lines.

Harry was quietly chortling, "Was that lip gloss for me then?"

Draco blanched, his voice getting higher, "You wish, not that I'm wearing any."

Unexpectedly Harry pulled Draco's chin towards him to have a look. Horrified, the Slytherin tried to scramble away. But Harry held fast. "You are, you're fucking wearing lip gloss."

Draco attempted to stammer out some rebuttal but became paralyzed as Harry's face loomed nearer. Deliberately and slowly, Harry licked Draco's bottom lip.

"Cherry."

Draco, stunned, might have dissolved on the spot had Harry's hand on his chin not kept him rooted to reality. Harry chuckled and went back to his lines. Trembling, Draco also resumed his work. 'What the fuck was that?'

Harry ignored him for the next couple of hours leaving Draco to cast furtive glances in his direction and let his mind wonder as he wrote. 'Potter—of all people. Why didn't I fucking remember to wipe the gloss off? Maybe it's a good thing, oh Merlin--- no, this is Harry Potter. Erg! When is McGonagall going to get back? If I'd just waited till detention was over… I could have worn my leather pants and anything else I bloody well wanted for as long as I bloody wanted. Oh sod it.' Draco had a sudden vision of Harry helping him out of his tight leather pants. Thankfully Professor McGonagall finally reappeared.

"Let's see your work," The pair extended their papers for examination. Professor McGonagall seemed to find them in order for she dismissed them with a curt nod and an, "Off you go, and do try not to end up in here again."

Draco left Harry's quill on the desk and fled, not wanting to prolong the burning embarrassment. But Harry caught up with him in the corridor. He planted a firm hand on Draco's arse and pulled the body to his side.

"Come with me," it was a command. Harry led an unhappy Draco into an empty classroom a few doors down.

Draco blinked several times trying to grasp the oddness of the situation. Harry meanwhile muttered, _muffliato_, pointing his wand at the door. Turning about he faced the bewildered Slytherin.

"You look a bit lost, here, let me help you," Harry said a bit sarcastically, approached Draco and unzipped his trousers, which promptly fell to the floor. Draco yelped and attempted to pick them back up but was warded off by the highly amused Harry.

"What are you wearing?" Harry could barely contain his mirth.

Feeling rather sheepish, Malfoy tried to look anywhere but at the boy scrutinizing him. "I like a little leather," he mumbled.

"You wha-what?" Harry was having difficulty speaking for all the laughter.

Draco couldn't help it, he smiled a little, "If you must know, I happen to like leather, thank you very much."

The little leather pants were straining to contain Draco; despite his firm vow to loathe Harry and all that he stood for, he was growing a sizable erection. 'Damn that Potter and his delicious domination.'

Harry continued to grin in a rather silly way and pulled up Draco's shirt to explore the skin beneath it, when he snorted with laughter yet again.

"Is, is that a belly button ring?"

"Maybe," Draco sniffed.

"Merlin, you're just a wee girl aren't you?"

Now feeling thoroughly abashed and completely unlike the authoritative Malfoy he was, Draco tried again to get his trousers up. But he came fact to face with Harry's bulging crotch. He stopped to stare.

A voice from above floated down, "That's right, go ahead. Wrap those glossy, cherry flavored lips around my cock."

Draco was beyond stunned at what Harry Potter of all people, was inviting him to do. Harry gently grazed Draco's cheek before unzipping himself. Then there it was, long, hard, and haloed by luscious brown curls. Obeying, Draco kissed it before devouring it. Harry was delighted to find the Slytherin's tongue so skilled. Within brief minutes, Harry was jerking involuntarily as he came. Draco's tongue continued to stroke the underside, milking him for all he was worth. Harry slumped to the floor, next to Draco who was clearly in need. Harry, still breathless, eyed him.

"Come here little girl," Draco came closer, "Strip."

Again Draco obeyed, eagerly shedding his clothes until his leather pants were all that remained. While he watched, Harry pulled up his own trousers, appreciating the gentle curve of the other boy's hips, the glint of silver in his navel, and the painted on look of the leather.

"Do you have any idea how hot those make me?"

Draco's head was swimming, the vision he's had during detention was about to come true. Harry delicately peeled off the pants, allowing his partner's snowy skin and needy cock, heavy with desire to spring out. Draco lost all lucidity as Harry went to work. By the time he reawakened into conscious thought, Harry was standing, tucking in his shirt and adjusting his red and gold tie.

"Bye little girl."

Draco watched Harry depart. He pouted, what with his pants around his ankles and having been a bit used really, he felt quite foolish. But something about the devilish glint in Harry's eye as he walked out told Draco to expect more foolishness to come.

'Maybe I should wear leather and lip gloss outside the loo more often. I wonder if Potter likes Strawberry.'

Author's note: That harkens back to the days before HP ended when I wrote a lot about the different ways HP and DM could get into delicious, dirty situations all around the school. It's such a guilty pleasure… Did you like it? despite its adolescents?


End file.
